Chapter 9

NINE

Perfect. Just perfect. It was like something out of the lurid novels Rebecca liked to read. In fact, since Rebecca was the one who had made the reservation, Robbie was certain his sister had booked only one room on purpose.

"You can always stay at a different hotel," Robbie told Tillman as they stepped away from the front desk, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder and scowling. "I saw a few others as we were coming in."

"Not on your life," Tillman said with a humorless laugh, surprising Robbie. When Robbie stared at him in surprise as they reached the lift, Tillman sent him an incredulous look and said, "I'm not letting you have all the fun of staying in a posh hotel like this while I bunk in at some budget place."

Robbie hit the lift call button a little too hard in his irritation. "That wasn't what I was suggesting at all," he snapped. "I just thought you would be more comfortable with your own room."

"That you would be more comfortable, you mean," Tillman shot back.

Robbie let out a sharp breath as the lift doors open and they stepped in. "I'm not arguing with you anymore," he said, rubbing one temple as Tillman hit the button for the second floor. "I just don't have it in me anymore. Do whatever you'd like, I'm not going to stop you."

Tillman didn't reply. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder and stared determinedly at the lift doors until they opened onto the second floor.

Robbie could sense Tillman was tired. He was, too, for that matter. Even though all they'd done all day was drive, so many hours sitting tense and silent in a car with someone who had gotten under your skin took a lot out of you. From the look of Tillman's house, he'd probably been surrounded by chaos from the moment he woke up and just wanted a little peace now.

They headed down the quiet corridor, searching for their room. Robbie had to admit that the sight of Tillman with his niece and nephew had impacted him in ways he hadn't expected. Tillman was such a natural with children. He'd seen that in the ceramics studio. It had been clear after only a few minutes that his niece and nephew adored him.

He wondered what children saw in Tillman that he wasn't seeing.

Or maybe it was seeing it, he just wasn't letting himself process how what he was seeing made him feel.

Or maybe he was, and that was the problem.

They found their room at the end of the hall without any more fuss.

"Shit, this is nice," Tillman said as they walked into the large, well-appointed hotel room. His London accent was particularly noticeable, since he hadn't had a reason to hide it all day.

"Only one bed," Robbie said, rolling his eyes as he walked over and dumped his bag on the room's single, king-size bed. That would be typical of Rebecca as well.

"If you don't like it, you can sleep on the sofa," Tillman said, marching over to drop his bag onto the large and, admittedly, comfortable-looking sofa against the far wall. He sat on it as well, and from the way he sank into the cushions, it probably was comfortable.

"I'm sorry about this," Robbie said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead again. He was certain the headache he had was from staring so hard at the road all day, but it was possible that it was because he'd reached his limit emotionally. "Rebecca was either trying to save money or?—"

"Matchmake?" Tillman suggested with a sly smirk. He pushed up off the sofa and moved to the bureau, checking over the offerings for tea and coffee. "Don't worry, mate. You're not my type."

For some ungodly reason, that comment filled Robbie's insides with hopelessness. He wasn't anyone's type. It shouldn't have bothered him, but as he sat on the edge of the bed and just watched Tillman as he examined the room like a child might have, a dozen, petty worries seemed to collapse on him all at once.

He was a talented ceramicist who was wasting his time teaching amateurs and children in his family's home instead of fueling his ambition. That was probably the reason Keith had left him, why he hadn't seen a future with the two of them together, raising a family. He should be doing better than he was, trying for more, making something of himself. Instead, he was hiding someplace he found comfortable. It was pathetic.

"Oy, mate, you alright?" Tillman asked once he'd completed a full circuit of the room, television remote in hand. He set that aside to turn his full attention to Robbie.

"Headache," Robbie said, closing his eyes and pressing his temples, like he needed some sort of action to justify his words, because Tillman would think he was making everything up otherwise.

"Maybe they have some paracetamol in the bathroom," Tillman said, striding away from him.

Robbie stood and unzipped his bag to start unpacking as Tillman checked. He'd only just gotten there, but already, he wanted to go home.

And wasn't that the problem with him?

"Nothing in there," Tillman said, coming out of the bathroom. "I'll go down and check at the front desk. These posh places usually have stuff like that on tap. It's late, so I might get supper, too. You want anything?"

"No," Robbie said, then realized how hungry he was. "Yes. I don't know."

Tillman nodded at him, swiped the key card from the bureau, and headed for the door. "I'll see what's out there."

It was a relief to have Tillman gone…and at the same time, Robbie wished he would come back. There was something about Tillman's presence, as irritating as it was, that he needed. Damned if he could explain it, though.

He spent the time that Tillman was gone unpacking his bag, hanging the clothes that needed to be hung, and fetching a glass of water from the bathroom before sitting on the bed and turning on the telly. Nothing on any of the channels interested him, so he picked a random quiz show and let that play while he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Something had to change. He couldn't spend the rest of his life as the boring member of the family, the one who never traveled, never had adventures. He had a Hawthorne family reputation to live up to. Just being an artist of medium renown wasn't going to cut it. Especially if he ever hoped to be in a relationship again.

That thought left him wondering why Tillman wasn't dating anyone. Or, maybe he was and he just kept that part of his life private. But no, after two weeks of Tillman spending his work days at Hawthorne House, Robbie was certain he'd gotten to know the bastard well enough to know that he wasn't seeing anyone. He knew him well enough now that he really ought to start calling him Toby, but pure stubbornness had kept him to surnames only.

"Alright, I've got paracetamol, and two steak and ale pies, since that's the specialty of the place downstairs, and two beers, though you should probably drink water. I've got those, too," Tillman announced as he marched back into the room half an hour later carrying a large bag with the restaurant downstairs' logo printed on it.

Robbie had nodded off, but he jerked straight and tried to focus as Tillman brought a single-use packet of paracetamol and the bag over to the bed.

"Which do you want first?" he asked.

"Paracetamol," Robbie said, taking the packet from him.

He only glanced to Tillman briefly before heading into the bathroom to take the pills. Now that he was back, having Tillman in the same hotel room with him made Robbie's skin prickle and his breathing tight. He thought he might die if Tillman figured out he'd been sitting there, contemplating whether he was single.

When he stepped back into the bedroom, Tillman had turned the telly to a news channel and laid out the supper he'd brought on the bureau. He had his steak pie and leaned back on the sofa, chewing happily away while watching the news of the day. Robbie quietly fetched his supper, then had a seat on the other end of the sofa.

It was the quietest and most anti-climactic way to end the evening that Robbie could have thought of. It was just two blokes, eating what amounted to pub food while watching the disaster of world leaders on the telly.

Once the food was gone, they kept watching telly in companionable silence, barely even looking at each other. It was almost as if neither of them wanted to recognize that the other was there, and yet, Robbie had never felt so acutely with someone as he did sitting on a sofa with Tillman.

By the time the late news had come on, Robbie had almost worked up the nerve to invite Toby to sleep in the bed with him instead of settling for the sofa.

"I don't know about you, mate, but I'm knackered," Toby said at last, getting up from the sofa and going to the closet, where Robbie had noticed a spare blanket earlier. "You want the bathroom first or can I get in there?"

"Go ahead," Robbie said, standing and shuffling over to the bureau to fetch his sleep shirt.

"Cheers," Toby said, heading into the bathroom.

Robbie was as tense as a bowstring until Toby shut the door behind him. Then he deflated. He couldn't do it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't ask Toby to sleep with him. Toby would probably just laugh at him if he did.

The awkwardness of the missed moment continued as Robbie changed for bed, then took his turn in the bathroom. By the time he came out with his teeth and face clean and bladder emptied, Toby was already stretched out on the sofa, head resting on a pillow he'd swiped from the bed, arms tucked over the blanket. Robbie's last chance to try to break the wall between them was gone.

"Night," Toby called to him as Robbie climbed into bed.

"Goodnight," Robbie answered, reaching to turn out the light.

He settled in to try to sleep with a sigh. Rebecca would be so disappointed in him.

The next morning started early. Toby was apparently far more of a morning person than Robbie was. He was in and out of the bathroom, then let Robbie know he was headed down to the hotel gym for a bit before Robbie was even out of bed.

By the time he came back, Robbie had at least dragged himself into the shower, then dressed in the artistically casual clothing The Ceramics Challenge producer had said he should wear for filming. Everything felt stilted but brimming with potential as Robbie waited for Toby to shower, then dress in a suit, of all things.

"It's a ceramics factory," he said as he watched Toby tying his tie, trying not to get turned on by the simple act. "Why are you wearing a suit?"

"People take you seriously if you're wearing a suit," Toby said, straightening his tie.

"They'll take you seriously because you're there to do business with them, or at least to observe their business," Robbie argued as Toby grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. He really was fit. Robbie wished he'd gotten a glimpse of him shirtless, at least, but Toby was apparently also modest.

"No one has ever taken me seriously unless I forced them to," Toby said with a frown for his reflection, then turned and started for the door, like he would leave with or without Robbie.

He was probably right, Robbie realized. He could pretend they lived in a fair and equitable world all he liked, but the truth was that people who looked and sounded like Toby were rarely treated the way people who looked and sounded like him were.

He frowned over the thought as they walked to the lift. Was that him coming around to see things Toby's way, or was he just getting wiser with age?

The old ceramics factory where The Ceramics Challenge was filmed was just a short walk down the street. They didn't bother taking a cab or calling an Uber, since it would probably have taken longer to go through that than to just walk.

Once they reached the factory, they were greeted by a member of the production who was already on the lookout for them.

"We'll film your highlight spot first thing this morning," the young man said. "The contestants will be here by ten, at which point we'll film you introducing the challenge along with Dino and Laura."

They were the hosts of the show, and both accomplished ceramicists in their own right. Robbie was looking forward to meeting them.

"Hair and make-up are in here," the production assistant went on. "Your boyfriend can stay with you, if you'd like, or you're welcome to make use of the green room."

Toby laughed. Robbie frowned and said, "He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh." The assistant blinked. "Sorry. It's just that the two of you have a sort of—never mind. I'm so sorry."

"Think of me as his agent," Toby said, puffing himself up a bit. "And I think I'll take you up on that green room offer."

As Robbie stepped into the hair and make-up room, Toby walked off with the assistant, already talking the young man's ear off. Robbie refused to let himself feel abandoned, let alone jealous. The entire point of Toby being there was to discover how the production worked and to possibly come up with ideas for things Hawthorne House could do to expand their offerings.

It didn't matter what he told himself or how he tried to focus on the show and his part in it as the day got started, Toby stayed stuck in the background of Robbie's thoughts. Everyone on the set and in the studio was incredibly nice, the production had a positive and fun feeling to it, and he found it far easier to talk about himself for the highlight segment he filmed first, but at all times, Robbie was aware of where Toby was, and where he wasn't.

Toby was there, watching as Robbie gave his interview. He wasn't there for the long stretch after the interview, while the crew set up the workroom and Robbie met Dino and Laura.

Toby was there again for the fiddly, technical bits right before they filmed the introduction of the challenge, though he lingered in the wings, talking to everyone he could get to spare a few moments for him. He wasn't there as Robbie put on a smile and did his best to look like the celebrated professional he supposedly was as he introduced the day's challenge to the contestants.

Then came the long wait in the middle of the afternoon as the contestants completed the challenge. Robbie had been brought in to demonstrate historic techniques for working with a kick wheel, like the sort he had in his outdoor workshop at Hatfield House. The contestants were excited about the prospect of giving preindustrial techniques of cup-making a try, but that also meant they were so focused on what they were doing that Robbie was suddenly shifted to the background again.

"We usually spend this time getting other business done," Dino explained as they walked to the green room. "I've got a call with my agent, but once that's done, we should sit and talk shop."

"I'd love that," Robbie said with a smile.

That smile dropped as soon as he turned the corner into the green room and found Toby sitting far too close with another man in a suit. Another attractive man in a suit who seemed to be hanging on Toby's every word, the spark of interest in his eyes.

The green room definitely lived up to its name. The burst of jealousy that hit Robbie as he walked in, heading straight for the table of snacks, trying desperately not to interrupt, but also hoping against hope that Toby would ditch the intimate conversation he was having to talk to him, was ridiculous.

"…reeks of potential that isn't being used," Toby finished his sentence and glanced to Robbie. A second later, he straightened and pulled away from the other guy in the suit, stood, and said, "Speak of the devil."

Robbie nearly dropped the biscuit he'd just picked up. Did Toby think he was wasting his potential, too?

"Robbie, this is Aaron Powter from Silver Productions," Toby said, touching the other guy's arm and drawing him closer to where Robbie stood. "They're the people behind The Ceramics Challenge."

"Hi," Powter said, extending a hand to Robbie. "It's great to meet you. I love your work."

Robbie's brow went up as he shook the man's hand. "Robbie Hawthorne," he said, too stunned to say anything cleverer.

"We were just talking about you," Toby said, his eyes shining with the light of competition.

Suspicion swirled through Robbie. "Good things, I hope," he said, glancing to Toby. He was almost certain that half the things Toby had said about him were bad. Potential that wasn't being used, after all.

"I can't wait to see how this episode turns out," Powter said, still shaking Robbie's hand. He noticed, then let go. "Sorry. I've just always been fascinated by long-lost skills and the way we used to do things. That's why I championed The Ceramics Challenge when Silver Productions was looking for more in the reality television department."

"Thanks," Robbie said, glancing back to Toby again.

Toby smiled at Powter like he held the keys to a magic kingdom. He smiled at Powter the way Robbie had hoped he would look at him.

It was one drop too much in the bucket of everything that had been building up in Robbie for too long. He should have felt complimented by Powter, but all he could think was that Powter had been chatting Toby up in ways that he wasn't brave enough to try. Even though he despised Toby.

Except he didn't. Hatred wasn't even close to the emotions that roiled through him when Toby was around. Quite the opposite. And now, just as he was starting to recognize that Toby meant something different to him than he'd originally thought, someone else was wedging in to take something he wanted, yet again.

"Excuse me," Robbie said, his voice going hoarse. "I need to, er, I need to go."

He sent one last, hurt look to Toby, then turned and marched out of the room.